


A Childhood Portrait

by Eileniessa



Series: Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/F, Flash Fiction, Fluff, Silly, dialogue prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25884937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileniessa/pseuds/Eileniessa
Summary: Yennefer finds a painting of a young girl that looks strikingly familiarDialogue Prompt: “Well, weren’t you the cutest little thing?”
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Yennaia Flash Fiction Challenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880581
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69





	A Childhood Portrait

“Well, weren’t you the cutest little thing?” Yennefer said, and turned around.

Tissaia, who had just passed through the illusion and protective charms shrouding the small square room buried at the bottom of Aretuza’s deepest tower, did not move from the door. “What are you doing in here?” she asked. Demanded, really.

I was drunk off my arse because I tried to outdrink Rita to prove I hadn’t been ‘domesticated’ by you and stumbled in here by accident then fell asleep and maybe dribbled a bit on your very expensive Zerrikanian rug, was what Yennefer didn’t say. Snooping around in Tissaia’s secret little treasure room was one thing. Performing complex magic to get inside while under the influence was another.

“I was just admiring your collection,” said Yennefer. She stepped to the side and gestured to a pile of paintings stacked up against the wall. “I like this one in particular.” Yennefer bent forwards and picked up a portrait outside Tissaia’s view. She carried it across the room and leant it against an armour stand being used to display a replica of the armour worn by the Wild Hunt as depicted in ‘Aen Elle Elves: Fact and Fiction’ by the self-proclaimed master of ancient history and legends Hendrik-Jan Bosch. At least, Yennefer hoped it was a replica.

“I’d always wondered what you looked like before your ascension,” said Yennefer.

“That portrait is not of me,” said Tissaia.

“Are you sure?” Yennefer asked. “Because she has your eyes.”

“Blue is far from an uncommon colour among humans.”

“She looks like you too.”

Yennefer guessed that the girl in the portrait was thirteen to fourteen summers old, older in age and appearance than Tissaia in many regards, but she still bared some resemblance to the finely aged sorceress. She sat enthroned on the finest of wooden chairs, with leather cushions and a carved back that peeked out from behind the girl’s blonde head. Flowers of red, gold and purple were arrayed about her feet and climbed up the brick wall that formed the painting’s backdrop. The white and pink of her dress brought out the roses in her cheeks and if Yennefer squinted hard enough, she could just make out the stick starting to grow up her arse. And what a stick that would become.

“I disagree,” said Tissaia. “We share common features, true, but we do not bare familial resemblance.”

“You have the same dimple on your chin,” said Yennefer.

“That is coincidental.”

“It has your name on the back too. Skylark.”

Tissaia’s pencilled eyebrows shot up towards the lines in her forehead before she could catch herself. “Who told you that?” she asked.

“So, this is you,” said Yennefer. Oh, this was too good to be true.

“I thought you knew that,” said Tissaia.

“Call it an educated guess,” said Yennefer. She turned the picture around to reveal a blank backside, no name.

“You deceived me.”

“You lied first.”

“Who told you my birth name?” Tissaia asked again.

“Coral did,” said Yennefer.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“I thought she was lying when she told me. I suppose I owe her an apology.”

“I’m not sure how much good that will do her now.”

Yennefer looked back at the painting, and then at Tissaia. “I can’t believe you used to be blonde,” she said.

“I used to be many things before you knew me,” said Tissaia. “Before I was Rectoress.”

“Do tell,” said Yennefer.

Tissaia hummed. “No,” she said. “I don’t think I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first (hopefully of over half a dozen) flash fiction stories. I wanted to challenge myself to write something small and concise, and because I've been having trouble finding the will to write I thought setting myself small, daily targets might help.
> 
> If you like what you see or would like to try writing flash fiction of your own, consider joining the Yennaia flash fiction writing challenge. Starting from Saturday 15th August myself and a few other writers in the community will be attempting to write and publish a work of flash fiction every day for a week, or as many as we can manage. 
> 
> I will be posting the details on my Tumblr shortly. EDIT: it’s out now


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